not start till after break up and the ice had all gone. So I put in the time replenishing our larder, snaring rabbits, fishing & shooting and, at odd moments, hauling wood with the dogs.
In charge of our party was an old Nova Scotia fisherman – Captain Mills, who was very proud of the fact that he had been a fisherman, and I want this fact remembered in view of what happened later.
On visiting my snares one day, I found two mice caught, head to tail, and on returning to camp, was teased unmercifully about it.
I felt convinced that Captain Mills was at the bottom of it.
About a month later, the ice on the river was moving and a good sized
